


Strategic Fragging

by QueenNoPlot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Pheromones, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Scent Marking, Semi-Public Sex, Spike - Freeform, Squabbling, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Table Sex, Teasing, valve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenNoPlot/pseuds/QueenNoPlot
Summary: Optimus wants to keep their romantic relationship quiet.Megatron is having none of that.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Comments: 8
Kudos: 132
Collections: Killers_Collections





	Strategic Fragging

**Author's Note:**

> How I imagine a couple of ex-nemeses would frag. Enjoy.

Everything is going great until the ex-warlord takes hold of the Prime’s hands. Their servos line up just right, the silver mech rocks forward, and attention is drawn by the  scree of Megatron’s wrists scraping his lover’s. The contact triggers a vent to open and Optimus is mortified at the hiss of steam releasing.

“Megatron, put that away!”

“What?” Primus, he can  feel that smirk. “Don’t like my scent, Prime?”

“I do, but–“ Megatron pushes forward again and Optimus swallows a moan. “My Autobots won’t.”

“What business do they have smelling you so closely?” The larger mech growls.

“Ratchet and Perceptor have impeccable olfactory sensors.“

“So let them smell.” A sharp thrust puts a swift end to whatever argument the Prime is about to throw at him. “I would prefer it if your mechs know you’ve been claimed.”

_Claimed_. It sends a shudder of excitement up Optimus’ spinal strut. The idea of filling the others in on the situation hasn’t sounded too bad lately because honestly, with as many times and as many inconvenient places they’ve had a good frag, he expects that at least Jazz knows already. He’s likely to tell Prowl, who might tell others in an event he deems worthy of the information: no doubt he’s spotted them sneaking off before while on security cam duty. But for everyone to know Optimus has lost his Primely virtue of abstinence, and with Megatron! He can only imagine the repercussions. He’s so focused on weighing the risks and rewards that he almost doesn’t notice when the mech on him,  _in him_ , stops rocking and starts thrusting.

“Stop overthinking it,” Megatron growls, “and enjoy this.”

He does return his attention to his lover, and then he acknowledges the satisfying friction in his valve from that glorious spike. The pleasure invades his circuits and gets caught in his vocalizer, ending with a grand result of steady panting.

“Come on, Optimus,” the larger mech groans, “just let it out.”

He tries, but he’s nervous and all that comes out is a staticky whimper. The ex-warlord gives his hands a squeeze and quickens his pace, enough to get the Prime squirming in the pleasant heat.

“Don’t worry about them hearing.”

Optimus turns his helm to flash his fangs at the mech pinning him.

“Maybe if you hadn’t decided to frag me on the strategy room table, I wouldn’t need to worry,” he growls. “That’s a busy corridor out there and you know it, you piece of– AH!”

It’s the oldest dirty trick in the book. Grabbing Optimus’ neglected spike never fails to shut him up, and a few firm pumps get Megatron that moan he’s been waiting for. The Prime’s fingers leave scores on the surface of the table as he fails to hold it in any longer. But of course, Megatron is a sadist, and not a moment after Optimus has let himself start vocalizing, the movements grind to a halt.

“No, no, no,” the Prime whines as he reaches a hand back to grab Megatron’s waist.

“We can always continue this in your room if that makes you more comfortable.”

“No! Don’t you  dare stop now!”

“Feeling better, then?”

“Just shut up and frag me!”

“Yes, Commander.”

He quickly pulls out, turns the red and blue mech around, and hefts him up onto the table, earning a few curses along the way. There’s no trace of a complaint when he sinks his spike back into Optimus’ valve. The younger mech lets himself fall back and wraps his legs around the silver mech to pull him even deeper. As soon as the thrusts start up again, he releases all of the tension in his vocalizer. At this point he’s decided he doesn’t care if someone hears them, and doesn’t pay any mind to the volume of either of them.

One hand grips the edge of the table and the other grabs the back of Megatron’s helm when he leans down to kiss his battlemask. Then the mech moves to mouth just under his jaw and it’s all over. He finds that hypersensitive plate, sends a wave of ecstasy through his lover, and pounds him straight through his overload. Optimus cries out, back arching, legs and valve squeezing, as his climax is enhanced by the assault on his valve.

As he’s coming down from his height of pleasure, Megatron hits his. With a few harsh finishing thrusts he buries himself as deep as possible and releases. Optimus gasps at the liquid heat filling his valve, and then moans when the copious amount of transfluid is too much and leaks out around the spike hilted in him. His warframe audios pick up the sound of it dripping onto the floor. Megatron shudders and lies on him.

“You smell nice.”

“Shut up.”

The silver mech laughs and gently dismounts. He pulls a rag from subspace and cleans off Optimus before himself.

* * *

Prowl was in a stupor for the rest of the solar cycle. The sounds he had heard prompted him to imagine some things, and the images had burned themselves into his processor. He couldn’t help being in jealous shock.

**Author's Note:**

> My only social media account is Twitter (@QueenNoPlot), any others are impersonators!


End file.
